


a world within me that I cannot explain

by Bontaque



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Recovery Bucky Barnes, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bontaque/pseuds/Bontaque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky lives with Steve once they find him. He gets better, slowly. He starts to sleep through the night, he smiles when Steve makes a joke. There's still something not right about him.</p>
<p>Or the one where Steve thinks Bucky looks too thin thanks to everything that has happened to him, because Bucky Barnes had never been skinny. He doesn't say anything but he makes sure his kitchen is full of every type of junk food known to man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All ratings and relationship tags relate to where I eventually see this story going. So far, there is no sex or romance whatsoever but it's going to get there.
> 
> Title taken from Daft Punk's Within

 

 

_There are so many things that I don't understand_  
 _There's a world within me that I cannot explain_  
 _Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same_  
 _I am lost, I can't even remember my name_  
  
 _I've been, for sometime, looking for someone_  
 _I need to know now_  
 _Please tell me who I am_

 

The room was alive with laughter and voices as Steve kept an eye on his best friend. It had been an uphill struggle but Bucky remembered who he was, he no longer served Hydra and he was smiling. Steve still worried. Bucky accepted his third beer from Sam and Steve couldn't help but wonder whether there were some things that would never be the same.

Bucky would never have two arms made from flesh and bone again but that wasn't what concerned Steve. His friend had changed and Steve feared it was irreparable. Bucky did seem to be coping; his nightmares had become less frequent and he no longer looked like the shell of the man he had been when Steve had found him. He had a light behind his eyes that the Winter Soldier hadn't. The darkness was still there, just underneath. Steve could see it every time he looked at Bucky, the evidence of what Hydra had done to James Buchanan Barnes. There were times when he looked haunted but, even when he was smiling, Steve couldn't shake it.

Bucky was skinny. It was a weird thing to focus on, Steve knew. Not the missing limb or the scars but his weight. He looked gaunt in the right light, too thin from years of being kept as a weapon. The Bucky Steve had known had been a man of impulse, of over indulgence. The war had made everyone cut back but Bucky had never been skinny. He'd always managed to find enough for the two of them to eat and when Steve had had enough, he'd been the one to eat just for the sheer hell of it.

Steve knew that if Bucky had been himself in the twenty-first century, there was no way he would have looked the way he did. Even after most of his memories had returned and he'd begun to laugh again, Bucky still barely ate. It was something physical; his body had grown used to surviving, not living. Bucky was acclimatised to going against what his body wanted.

Steve just wanted his friend back.

 

 

 

The plan was simple. Steve just needed to get Bucky to enjoy things the way he had used to. He felt like he'd give anything to see him enjoy a drink again. Bucky drank when people gave him alcohol but it wasn't the same. Steve remembered how a good beer had been enough to lift his friend's spirits, how Bucky would go on for days about a bottle of wine he'd managed to get hold of in France.

“We're going out,” Steve told Bucky one afternoon.

There was a tavern two blocks down the street, converted from an old speak easy. It was full of history and it reminded Steve of home. He thought it would do more for Bucky than the bottles they kept in the fridge.

Bucky's eyes lit up a little as they went inside. Framed photographs covered the walls, almost all black and white. Past owners, patrons and VIP guests smiled down at them. In the corner, there was a collection of photographs documenting how the street outside had changed through time. Bucky was drawn to them immediately. Steve let him stare and went up to the bar. He ordered them both beers and, after a moment of hesitation, burgers.

He'd been to the tavern before and he knew they served great food. He was sure Bucky would have loved it.

Steve found a booth and Bucky followed him to it.

“This place reminds me of somewhere,” Bucky said. “We haven't actually been here before, have we?”

It had been around but Steve shook his head.

“No, but it has the same feel, doesn't it?”

Bucky nodded and took his beer when the barman brought it over. It was in an old fashioned tankard. It probably wasn't the original, Steve thought, but just holding it was bringing back memories for him.

“I swear we've been somewhere almost exactly like this before,” Bucky said. “You remember? You got beat up in the alley running behind it?”

Bucky grinned. It was an old joke.

“You'll have to be more specific,” Steve said.

He would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so happy that Bucky had said it. They drank, despite the fact that they couldn't get drunk. Well, they could, but Steve didn't really fancy drinking his weight in beer. Steve wasn't sure if the serum had affected Bucky's metabolism in the same way it had his own but he'd seen Bucky put away four beers without looking the least bit tipsy.

Bucky looked surprised but not suspicious when the food arrived.

“You have to try their curly fries,” Steve encouraged as he picked up one of his own.

Bucky looked at him rather blankly. He looked like he couldn't understand why someone would be excited about food. Steve really needed to introduce him to stuffed crust pizza.

“How is it?” Steve asked as Bucky took a bite of his burger.

“Yeah it's -” Bucky said between bites. “It's fine.”

Bucky ate everything on his plate but it was without the enthusiasm that Steve had hoped for.

He wasn't discouraged. Bucky was talkative, they'd enjoyed themselves. He just had to up his game. Steve remembered the first time Bucky's mom had taken them both out for ice cream. He made a point to pick something good up to put in the freezer.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Steve knew from a completely serious and very scientific study of Tony's that he could drink twelve beers before he felt anything more than a little bloated. He decided to do more or less the same experiment with Bucky. Just out of curiosity. He needed to have a better idea of how his metabolism. For science, as Tony would say.

“You remember when you could drink me under the table?” Steve asked Bucky as they watched a game.

It would take more than Hydra to kill Bucky's competitive nature. He eyed Steve suspiciously, sensing the challenge.

“How does is it feel now that you can't?” Steve asked.

Bucky laughed.

“You're not the only one with the serum, Steve,” he said. “Sorry, _Captain._ ”

He was already half way to the fridge. That was encouraging.

They drank like they used to, not moving onto the next drink until the other had finished theirs. The first three bottles went quickly, then the fourth and the fifth. Steve started to slow down as he started the sixth. He wanted to observe Bucky and he was starting to feel something himself. He might be super human but five bottles of beer was still a lot of liquid.

“How you doing?” he asked Bucky as they both drained bottle number six.

“Good,” Bucky said.

There was a flush to his cheeks and Steve wasn't feeling it at all. After bottle number 7 they agreed to a bathroom break.

Steve was glad; his stomach felt swollen and by the way Bucky staggered to the bathroom, one hand clutching his beer-bloated belly, he was in the same state.

Back in front of the television, they got through bottles eight and nine. It was clear from his slightly slurred speech, the alcohol was affecting Bucky.

“Can I call this a win?” Steve asked.

“No,” Bucky said immediately.

“Come on,” Steve said. “You're totally feeling it.”

“What and you're not?” Bucky asked.

“No,” Steve said.

“At all?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“Nope.”

“Fine.”

Bucky set his bottle down on the coffee table and collapsed back with a groan. There was a gentle smile on his face and Steve was sure his stomach looked a little swollen under his loose t-shirt. He tore his eyes away from him quickly.

“What's wrong?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing,” Steve said with a grin. “Nothing, I just really missed this.”

 

 

 

Steve started to fill his kitchen with everything tempting he could find. His freezer was full of ice cream by the end of the week and he had half of the snack aisle in his cupboards. Bucky didn't seem to notice or care as he continued to eat the same food every day. Porridge for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch, meat and potatoes for dinner.

“I'm cooking tonight,” Steve announced before Bucky could get close to the kitchen.

“No need,” Bucky told him. “I have leftovers from last night in the fridge.”

“I don't care, throw them away,” Steve told him.

Bucky looked appalled but Steve wouldn't take no for an answer.

“Come on, you'll like it, I promise.”

Steve had just the thing for him. Bucky had always loved italian food so Steve bought fresh ravioli from the market a few blocks over. A tomato-based sauce, some herbs and spices and he was sure to have Bucky drooling. Right on cue, as Steve was serving food into two bowls, Bucky appeared in the doorway.

“You didn't have to go to so much effort for me,” he said.

“It wasn't any trouble,” Steve lied. “I wanted ravioli. Making a little extra was no effort at all.”

“And where exactly did you learn to cook?” he asked

“Internet,” Steve told him.

“Well it smells...” Bucky said before pausing. “Delicious.”

He sounded surprised but Steve didn't call him on it. They both sat down, the two bowls of pasta steaming between them. It was subtle but Steve noticed when Bucky's tongue darted out to lick his lips before he picked up his fork.

They didn't talk at first. Bucky was too busy eating and Steve was too busy watching. There were no exclamations, not like Steve had hoped for. Bucky had always been very vocal about his appreciation of good food. He did seem to be singularly focused on the meal, though. He was definitely enjoying it. That was good enough.

Bucky's portion was a little larger than Steve's but he didn't seem to notice.

After Bucky caught him staring, Steve started up a conversation to distract him.

“What did you do today, then?” asked.

Steve was all too aware that he sounded like someone asking a teenager if they'd been productive. He sounded patronising but Bucky didn't seem angry. He gave Steve a run down of his day, of the things he was hoping to get done. It was nice to see Bucky thinking for himself, to see him planning.

They talked about girls and the local bars, even though it wasn't really their thing. Not any more. Bucky joked about getting a dog, like they had always planned to. And he ate. He ate like he hadn't eaten in days, even scraping the leftover sauce out of the bowl with his fork.

Steve took the empty bowls over to the sink. He didn't ask if Bucky wanted dessert. He was sure that he was full; Bucky was slumped back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling with one hand resting on his stomach. Steve took no notice. He dug around in the freezer for some ice cream. Bucky had always loved sweet and savoury flavours together. Steve found the tub he was looking for: vanilla with salted caramel swirls and pecans. He put two large scoops into a bowl and took it over to Bucky with a spoon.

Bucky peered up at him through his lashes. He frowned, obviously not expecting any more food but Steve didn't think he'd resist ice cream, not when he'd already taken it out of the container.

“I thought you might like this,” Steve said.

He glanced down at Bucky's stomach and saw it pressing against his t-shirt, wrinkling the fabric as it clung to his body. Steve left Bucky with his ice cream and turned his back on him to wash the dishes up. He heard the spoon clink against the bowl and smiled.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few weeks, Steve kept and eye on the food in the kitchen. Bucky mostly still stuck to his usual meals, unless Steve cooked for him but he was definitely snacking, too. Steve wondered if Bucky was purposely doing it when Steve wasn't there, as if it was something he wasn't allowed to do. When Steve did come home unexpectedly to find Bucky working his way through a bowl of popcorn or ice cream, though, he didn't flinch.

The effects of his snacking were obvious. Bucky hadn't said a thing but Steve could tell that his clothes were getting tighter. A few of his pairs of jeans were starting to look uncomfortable. Steve didn't know how best to broach the subject so he didn't, until he felt like he had no choice.

Bucky came out of the bathroom one morning and Steve's jaw dropped. His clothes looked practically painted on. He was sure that his other clothes weren't that tight but it was the day before laundry day and Bucky's wardrobe wasn't exactly expansive. They were probably his least comfortable clothes that he had left at the bottom of the laundry pile, Steve thought to himself.

He had to say something. He hoped Bucky didn't react badly. There was no need to; the weight that Bucky had gained didn't make him fat. Steve had struggled to find clothes small enough for him when he'd first gone to the stores he usually frequented. When Bucky had first come to live with him, he'd been almost skeletal, hip bones so prominent that all of the jeans Steve had bought just slid down to his knees. He'd returned them and bought some more two sizes down. Now he needed to go out and buy a few sizes up again.

“We need to go shopping,” Steve told him.

“We?” Bucky asked.

Steve had avoided taking Bucky to crowded places in the beginning. It was more out of worry about overwhelming his friend than protecting the public but he'd had to be careful. It had taken a while for him to be confident that he could predict how Bucky would react to things.

“I thought we could get you some better clothes,” Steve said.

He edged around the subject. It was weird that he didn't know how to approach something so mundane but by the way that Bucky flushed lightly, his subtlety was a good choice.

“The things you got me before do just fine,” Bucky said.

“I want you to choose your own clothes, Buck,” Steve said. “C'mon, humor me.”

Steve took him to an area that he knew had varied stores. He realised that he had no idea what would appeal to Bucky. Fashion had changed since he'd last bought clothes for himself. After Steve convinced him not to just go for the cheapest options, Bucky began to favor comfort and simplicity. He picked up t-shirt after t-shirt, mostly black or white, some with designs printed on the front. He pulled one on over the shirt he was already wearing. It caught Steve's attention.

It was looser than the ones he'd been wearing, definitely at least three sizes larger. It looked comfortable, casual. The motif on the front had accents of blue that really worked with Bucky's eyes and Steve had to stop staring.

It looked good. It looked like Bucky had an identity of his own. He looked like he should. Steve made sure to steer Bucky towards buying new pants. He mainly chose jeans, he seemed to have a thing for those and Steve swapped a few out for larger sizes. He wouldn't need them any time soon but it was just in case.

  
  


Steve had been dreading the inevitable. All eyes snapped to him when he entered the room. He was just glad Bucky wasn't required to attend.

“I'll cut to the chase, now that we're all here,” Fury said.

He spoke directly to Steve. It seemed like everything was in his hands but Steve still wasn't sure what he wanted. He wasn't sure that he wanted to decide, either.

“How has James been?” Fury asked.

“Good,” Steve replied truthfully. “He seems to be over most of the shock.”

“That's what we have psychologists for.” Fury said simply. “How is he? Non-medically speaking.”

Steve stared back at Fury, not sure what he was supposed to say.

“How much of the Winter Soldier is still there?” Bruce asked.

His voice was gentle, like he was asking a child about something beyond their understanding.

“None,” Steve told him. “Honestly, he's still a little off, but he's Bucky through and through.”

“Do you think he's ready?” Fury asked.

There was too much meaning in that single word. Was Bucky _ready_? Was he ready for combat? For responsibility? Ready to put his life on the line for his country yet again? Could they really ask him to do that?

Steve knew that he had to do something, that Bucky would need a sense of purpose, but he couldn't help dwelling on the fact that Bucky had never really wanted to go to war. Steve couldn't do that to him again.

“I think combat might not be the best idea,” Steve said. “But that's just my opinion. He's definitely ready to help.”

Fury nodded and set a date for Bucky to come in. Nobody but Steve had seen him in months. He really hoped they'd all be discreet.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Steve didn't need to worry. He didn't give the team enough credit. Most of them didn't seem to react at all. Tony arched an eyebrow as he ran his eyes down Bucky's body but he was subtle. In all fairness, Bucky hadn't gained that much weight. He was a little heavier than he had been when he'd enlisted, sporting a small belly that Steve hadn't seen since before the war.

“He looks... better,” Bruce said. “Really. He looks less... gaunt.”

It wasn't an insult and Steve knew he was right. Bucky would always carry some things with him but that was true of everyone. Especially of the company Steve tended to keep. They all had something.

He'd managed to persuade Fury to forgo the fitness tests as Bucky wasn't going into the field. He'd also managed to convince himself that it was just to avoid any unnecessary stress.

Two men took Bucky away. It was hard for Steve not to worry but he knew what they needed to question him about. Step one: see what Bucky could remember about Hydra. He was lucky that SHIELD had let him recover first.

Two hours later, he returned. He flashed Steve a reassuring smile as he sat down around the table. The team was in the middle of discussing a crisis but Bucky was part of that now.

“What's the best course of action?” Barton asked Fury over the video conference.

“I'm not sure there's anything we can do,” Fury said.

There was chatter about a leak in SHIELD, about the return of The Rising Tide. If it was true, their conference call would be easily intercepted. It was a long shot.

“So the firewall has been strengthened, just in case?” Tony asked.

“Of course. If they got hold of that information there's no telling what they could do with it.”

Steve thought they were being too obvious. Apparently, though, there were some big egos at play. Fury ended the video call.

“Isn't there somewhere they can move the information?” Bucky asked, concerned. “Somewhere offline?”

“We want them to try to hack it,” Natasha explained. “If they do, they'll download a bunch of trojans that'll show us just where they're getting the rest of their data.”

Steve could tell from Bucky's expression that he understood.

“Anyone for lunch?” Tony asked. “I'm starving.”

They left the room, people turning off down different corridors until it was just Steve, Bucky and Tony that made it to the lobby. Tony led the way to the deli across the street. Steve saw Bucky's eyes light up when he saw the selection of meats and cheeses. If it had been just the two of them, Steve might have offered to order for him. To help.

Tony ordered the same thing every week: pulled pork on sour dough, rocket, coleslaw and onions. Steve bought a pre-made sandwich and as always, Tony rolled his eyes at him. Steve had explained it before. All he wanted was a ham sub and if he asked for it made behind the counter, the pre-made might just go to waste. There was no sense in it.

When it was Bucky's turn to order, he looked torn. Steve watched his eyes flit between the pot of meatballs, the pulled pork, the freshly carved turkey...

“I can't decide between the turkey and the meatballs,” Bucky said after a few moments.

“You could always have them both, hon,” the woman behind the counter said sweetly.

Steve knew that it was probably part of her job to sell them more food but there was a glint in her eye as her gaze travelled down Bucky's torso. His shirt wasn't too tight but it clung to his belly more than it had when they'd bought it. Only a week ago, Steve thought to himself.

“On one sandwich?” Bucky asked.

“No, no,” she said with a pleasant laugh. “Turkey sandwich with a side of meatballs.”

She picked up a plastic container and a ladle as she spoke but waited for Bucky's agreement. He nodded and the girl filled the container with a generous portion of meatballs that could have been a quick lunch on its own. She sprinkled a handful of cheese over the top before sealing the lid and moving back to the bread rack.

“So, what do you want on your sandwich?” she asked.

Bucky pointed at the different fillings, taking suggestions when they was offered to him and when the sandwich was finished, Steve was surprised that the server could cut it. Along with six slices of turkey, Bucky had chosen provolone, tomatoes, onions, mozzarella, peppers and lettuce. Steve couldn't help being a little proud. Bucky didn't look intimidated by the mountain of food in front of him, he looked excited.

“Jesus, is Steve not feeding you at home?” Tony teased when he saw what Bucky had purchased.

“Hydra sort of didn't,” Bucky responded with a smirk. “I'm making up for lost time.”

Tony considered that for a moment, looking between Bucky and the food that he was carrying to the table. He seemed impressed.

Once they sat down, they ate for a while in relative silence. Outside, they had to be careful when talking about work so that was off the table. Steve and Tony had always agreed that lunch was there for them to unwind as much as it was to refuel. They often ate together and said little. With Bucky there, it was a little stilted. Steve doubted Tony knew what to say to him. Their situation didn't really encourage small talk.

Bucky finished his meatballs before Steve had even gotten half way through his sandwich. He didn't hesitate before starting on his turkey sub.

“Did Fury seem in a bad mood to you earlier?” Tony asked Steve.

“Not particularly,” Steve said. “Why?”

“Nothing, really,” Tony said. “He just seemed a little pissed, that's all.”

Steve really hadn't noticed anything. Fury had always been a little hard for him to read and he'd been distracted. Bucky was looking between them as they spoke, listening intently.

“Anyway, did I show you the new modifications I've been making?” Tony asked.

He reached into his pocket for his phone and tapped at the screen before turning it around to show Steve. He'd seen a few plans already but the photographs showed a finished suit. It was mainly blue and red and Steve knew what it was for. It was stealthy, utilising ECM jamming. The suit was designed to go into space.

“I'm calling it the OAA,” Tony said. “Outer Atmospheric Armor.”

Steve nodded, impressed. Tony never ceased to amaze with his constant flow of new ideas. Bucky chewed as Tony showed him the photographs. His eyes lit up and Steve was reminded of Howard Stark's flying car and how Bucky hadn't shut up about _technology_ and _the future_ for days.

Eventually, Steve and Tony finished and Bucky was the only one left eating. He had been faster than them in the beginning but he'd slowed down as the amount that he'd eaten had caught up with him.

Tony joked that Bucky may have overestimated himself but Steve knew better. Sure enough, five minutes later, Bucky had eaten every bite of the sandwich and Tony was applauding. They walked back to headquarters and Steve snuck occasional glances at his friend. Bucky looked fine but the full curve of his stomach was visible even beneath his loose black t-shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days went without incident. Bucky had looked impressed when the team had brought in the woman responsible for the information leak. They hadn't had anything else on since and Steve was starting to worry about what SHIELD would want to use Bucky for. He wasn't going to be any help in the tech department. Steve thought recon would suit him best, but he didn't know how Bucky would react to that.

He got his answer when Bucky was called out of a meeting. He didn't return and Fury waited an hour to tell Steve what was going on.

“He's on a mission,” was all he got.

“Oh,” Steve said.

“I take it that's okay with you,” Fury said.

His tone was rhetorical. Bucky was working for SHIELD now. Steve didn't have a say in what they used him for. If Bucky was as well adjusted as everyone thought, he didn't really have a right to say anything at all.

That didn't stop him worrying. He thought about calling someone to try to find out what was going on when Bucky still wasn't home by seven that night. He managed to hold off for an hour until he caved and called Natasha. He thought that if anyone would know something, it would be her. He heard the ringing tone four times before she finally picked up.

“Calm down, he's with me,” she said and then hung up.

Steve paced for a few minutes before he decided to stop and do something productive. He cleaned up a little, reorganised the cupboards in the kitchen and then took stock of the food they had. It wasn't much, but he had enough to bake some cookies, so he did. It turned out that when he worried, he baked. He learned something new about himself every day.

The cookies had cooled and Steve had moved them from the wire rack to a covered plate before the front door opened. Bucky walked in, a faint smile on his face.

“Why does it smell like my mom's kitchen in here?” he asked.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “What happened? I made cookies.”

He took a deep breath, aware of how frantic he sounded. Bucky looked fine.

“That's classified,” Bucky said seriously, before his face broke into a grin. “A few of us broke into a base to get information on Hydra. There's evidence suggesting an agent is close to another investigation.”

“What took you so long?” Steve asked, bringing the plate of cookies to Bucky as he sat down on the couch.

“The base was in Russia,” Bucky said.

He looked better than fine. Bucky looked content as he took a cookie from the plate and reached for the remote.

“What have you been doing? Looking to the horizon and waiting for your love to return?” Bucky asked with a wink.

Steve changed the subject. Later, he let Bucky shower first. There was dirt on his face, a spatter of blood on his arm that was not his own. Steve wanted to call Fury and ask why Bucky was even on a mission where blood spatter was an issue but he reigned it in. Bucky was fine. He came out of the bathroom with steam rising from his hair and clothes clinging to his wet skin.

Steve wondered if it was weird that he had a favourite shirt. Of Bucky's. It was the one he'd tried on in the shop, the loose white tee with the blue graphical print. It was still too big but Steve noticed that it wasn't as loose as it had been. Maybe it was just the way the moisture made it stick to his body. Maybe it was something to do with the way that Steve had only eaten one cookie but the plate was empty. He swallowed thickly and took the opportunity to take his turn in the bathroom when Bucky sat back beside him.

The air was still thick from steam when he turned the water on. He stripped off quickly and stepped under the hot spray. He soaped up, lamenting that Bucky was just in the next room. Steve knew he wouldn't be able to hear anything over the sound of the water and the television but still, he didn't really feel right about getting off with his friend relaxing on his couch. Except Bucky had been living with him for a while and Steve was beginning to feel pent up. There was only so much that a three hour jog could do for a man. He wrapped a hand around himself and tried to push thoughts of Bucky out of his head. Try as he might, the asshole kept popping back to the front of his mind. Steve could see him lounging in the next room, the way he had been when Steve had left. He wouldn't have moved, one arm still draped over the back of the couch, his clothes too revealing where they stuck to his skin.

He was being ridiculous. Steve had been trying to push down his feelings since they'd found Bucky again. The history books had been as accurate as they could have been. Steve had never told anybody. Peggy had known but he'd never outright told her or even confirmed her suspicions. He hadn't had to.

Bucky had been his best friend, everything he had. Steve had been working up the courage to tell him that he was the one he wanted to come home to, to share a bed and make a life with when Bucky had been drafted. Then he'd met Peggy and she'd guessed everything as soon as she saw the two of them together. She'd convinced Steve to talk to him, she'd coached him, despite Steve's protests and then Bucky had gone and fallen off of a train.

Steve knew it wasn't the right time to say anything, especially not when he didn't even even know how Bucky would react but it was getting harder to keep his eyes off of him. Steve wasn't going to kid himself. He'd been disappointed when he'd seen Bucky again after the serum had made him taller, larger and stronger than his friend. Bucky had always been bigger than him. He'd been a sort of second home against the violent night of New York; Bucky had held him the night of the funeral, the all encompassing warmth of his body letting Steve pretend that everything was okay.

Steve was big enough and strong enough to care of himself now but that didn't mean he always wanted to. Maybe that was why he was so glad to see Bucky filling out again.

That's what he told himself as he pressed a hand against his mouth to muffle his breaths. He came thinking about that damned white shirt and how it would look tight and straining. Steve gave it a month.

 


End file.
